Bellydancing was oh so jingly jangly. The teacher was like a bendy pencil. Quite lovely. There was this dreadful fat woman with awful bingo wings who looked a bit like my mother. I could see her in the mirror but when I turned round I couldn't see her in the class. Odd.
I walked. Oh how I walked. Lovely walking. I like it but it might be wearing my knees out.
The Apprentice son is off to France today. I hope not forever. I will miss him but there again I can clear up his pigsty of a bedroom and cook for one less.
Mr Smith is being marginally more reasonable though still a right contrary Mary. You pay, here's my credit card. What? But when I mention it he flies off the handle. I think he is worried about selling our house or rather not selling our house. He works himself into such over excitement when anyone comes to look at it then goes into a rage when they don't buy it. I have a more laid back approach to it all - nobody is going to buy our house, if they do it will be a major bloody miracle.
Another gorgeous sunny day. I am Fitbit Queen. Where shall I stagger today?
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